


My New Therapist

by RS28



Category: AU - Fandom, Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, maybe some smut, nothing too heavy though, therapyau
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RS28/pseuds/RS28
Summary: In this AU, Beca and Jesse's marriage is on the rocks after 'the incident' (you'll find out when you read). So he forces her to go to therapy thinking it'll be what will help stop her feelings for other women... little did he know it would drive her further away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I came with this idea a while ago and started writing it a but stopped for some reason. I found it on my computer the other day when I was bored and have been pumping out chapters left and right. Not sure how long it'll be but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading 
> 
> RS

'Mrs Swanson?'

  
'Eh.. yes?' Beca said, not looking away from the wall she seemed to be so deeply interested in. She hated being called that, it reminded her she was still married.

  
'Dr Beale is ready for you. First door on your left.'

  
Beca nodded slightly, standing up. 'Thank you' she replied while keeping her eyes on the poster on the wall that said "Don't Bottle It Up'. She frowned slightly as she re-read it before making her way down the dimly lit hallway.

  
The walls were covered in posters stating things like 'It's okay to feel down sometimes' and 'How to overcome panic attacks 101'. God she didn't belong here. There was nothing wrong with her. One 'incident', as her husband liked to call it, she assumed because he didn't want to accept what it really was. What she had done was not a regret to her quite yet, not that she believed it ever would be, but she would certainly rethink how she would go about it if she ever got the chance to do it again, so she didn't have to endure this hour long version of her personal hell.

She shook her head as she passed yet another poster before she the reached the door. She stopped in front of it, hand grasping tightly around the door knob ready to be turned and opened. She stayed in that position longer than what she probably should have, imagining what was behind it. She thought more about the person she would supposedly have to engage in deep, dark conversations with about why she did what she did and how to best over come it, not that she felt she needed to over come anything, let alone the 'incident', more than she thought about the room itself. She imagined a middle aged man, most definitely taller than her 5'2, with dark, well trimmed hair and beard that had flecks of grey. She assumed this man would have glasses and a wedding band on his left hand and a family photo on his desk of him, his wife, two kids and dog. He would look her with that smile that showed just the right amount of pity and concern to make anybody really believed he actually cared. Ofcourse Beca herself had never believed a smile like this as she knew it was a therapists job to create the right amount of false trust to get a person to open up and spill their guts. And Beca was determined, from the moment her appointment had been forced upon her, that she would not trust this smile, nor any words that came out of it.

  
She opened the door slowly and what she was met with was not exactly something she had imagined. There, sitting at a large dark mahogany desk centred in the middle of the room, was a woman, who, she presumed, was not much older than herself, with glimmering auburn hair that was styled in a tight bun, placed at the nape of her neck, small bits of hair hanging down to frame her face, a set of reading glasses were perched on her nose and she was chewing on the end of a pencil while immersed in reading something that was sitting on the desk in front of her and humming quietly to a tune Beca didn't quite recognise. She was dressed in a white blouse with a neck line that Beca found to be rather low, not quite inappropriately so but certainly border lining it. She could see a grey blazer resting on the back of her black leather office chair, and though she could not see what the woman was wearing on her bottoms, she assumed it was either a skirt or trousers that matched the blazer.

  
Beca figured that perhaps it would have been more polite to knock on the door before entering but she had been so lost in the assumptions of what her therapist may look like, the thought hadn't popped in to her mind until she was actually in the room. Dr Beale, who she assumed was the woman sitting at the desk, still hadn't seemed to notice her presence in front of her, her attention seemed rather captured by what ever it was she was reading. So Beca took a moment to properly study her demeanour. Yes she had taken in her appearance as soon as she entered, as one normally would, but Beca wanted a chance to gauge her personality. She seemed like a pleasant person, perhaps even quite a happy one. Her features were soft but she would occasionally frown and narrow her eyes slightly as though concentrating quite deeply on something she had read. Her posture perfect.

  
There was something about this woman that Beca felt and though she was not entirely sure what it was, she believed that it was a feeling of something like pure trust towards this woman sitting in front of her, and even though they had yet to par take in a conversation of any form, Beca couldn't help this feeling from spreading throughout every inch of her body and mind... much to her annoyance. And she wondered if this was how all the doctors' patients felt when they looked at her.

  
Just as she was about to speak up, she stopped herself and watched as Dr Beale lowered her pencil to write a note down on a blank piece of paper with her right hand and glance at the watch on her left wrist. She finished writing down whatever it was she was writing and stood up still looking down while taking off her glasses. Hands now placed either side of the desk, she finally looked up towards the door, of which Beca assumed the doctor was going to go through until she realised someone was already standing there, watching her. They both made eye contact that Beca felt was almost quite intrusive. She swore Dr Beale seemed to have looked right into her mind and into the dark crevasses that no one had dared to explore, even Beca herself felt uncomfortable going to these places when it was necessary, not that that happened often, with just one long look. The doctor frowned ever so slightly as if questioning how long her patient had been standing there but smiled none the less as she spoke.

  
'Oh! Hello. Mrs Swanson?' Dr Beale asked while taking a step out from behind her desk and proceeding to stand in front of it. Hm... She was wearing matching trousers. Strange Beca would have assumed skirt but she supposes that that doesn't really matter at the moment.

  
She finds it odd though, that the woman was not more startled by the fact that someone was standing there watching her but she put it down to the fact that she had been expecting her. Beca stepped forward, taking her hand off the door, letting it close behind her, while putting on the biggest and most normal smile she could muster without it seeming fake ( a way of course to convince any therapist that she was fine, was to seem just that and what better way than a smile?)

  
'Eh yeah, hi,' Beca replied, slightly awkwardly, 'Just call me Beca. You're Dr Beale?' she continues putting an ever so slight emphasis on the 'you're'.

  
'I am indeed. You say that as though there's something about me you weren't expecting...'

  
'Well,' Beca starts, 'I just assumed due to the nature of my referral perhaps my husband wouldn't be comfortable with me having a woman as a therapist.'

  
'Hm, that's a fair assumption I suppose,' Dr Beale nods her head and continues while clasping her fingers together in front of her lap and leaning back on her desk, 'But your husband doesn't get to decide who you're in therapy with, he only decided what practice. Anyway, take a seat there on the couch.' Dr Beale says while gesturing to a small brown, leather couch to the left side of the room, placed in front of a large window, and clasping her hands again.

  
Beca takes nine steps from the door and sits down on the surprisingly comfy couch, finally breaking eye contact with her therapist, though she can still feel herself being watched as she does so. She sits down, sitting up as straight as she can without it hurting her back, places her hands in her lap and takes a brief moment to look at her surroundings.

The furniture in the room was rather dark and in turn caused the room itself to be darker than what was expected due to the large windows on three out of four walls. There were both paintings and pictures adorning the light brown of the walls all of which seemed rather personal to the doctor in front of her still gazing intently at her. The desk in the middle of the room was large but not overly and had various books and pieces of paper sitting atop of it, as well as a laptop and a phone. The one wall that did not have a window but instead contained a door to the far right of it, of which Beca had entered, had a large bookshelf that was packed full of books and had various little trinkets and even what looked to be an award of some kind nestled in between. There were a plants situated thoughtfully throughout the room all of which seemed well kept. Overall it was a nice enough room, very professional feeling and more of like and office in some kind of business headquarters, than a room where one received therapy. Then again Beca supposed that to Dr Beale it was her office.

  
As she again settled her gaze to that of her doctor, Beca realised how blue her eyes were. They were rather captivating and the way they were staring at her made her feel a feeling of which was new to her and that she couldn't quite explain yet. It was moment before Dr Beale spoke again and as she did so, she got up from her position of leaning on her desk and took a seat in front of Beca on the arm chair directly in front of the couch.

  
'So Beca,' The doctor began, 'I assume you know why your husband made an appointment for you to speak with a therapist?' Dr Beale raised her eyebrows as she spoke and tilted her head slightly still keeping her soft yet strangely intrusive gaze into Beca's eyes.

  
'Yes, I believe I can come up with a few assumptions as to why he has forced me to come to therapy,' Beca smirked slightly at the thought of the reason why she was here.

  
'Forced?' Dr Beale inquired, keeping her eyebrows raised.

  
Beca clears her throat before speaking and shifts ever so slightly in her seat, 'Yes. I don't believe that I need to be here. My husband...' she pauses and she considers her words and sighs softly through her nose, ' He believes that what I am feeling can be solved and that when it is solved I can love him. But unfortunately for him, I can't.'

  
'And do you know why you can't love him again?'

  
'Again,' Beca scoffs, 'Again,' she repeats while shaking her head and rolling her eyes, ' I never did love him, not really.'

  
'May I ask why?' Dr Beale asks. She hadn't planned on getting to deep into therapy today, as it was the first session and she as also liked getting to know her patients first but she couldn't help but be rather intrigued by what Beca had said, she found the whole case really rather interesting, and wanted to see what her response to the question would be, not that she expected one that would really divulge into Beca's true feelings.

  
'Hm. Good question', Beca smiles slightly as she takes a moment to think about her answer, 'Unfortunately, though I do know the reason, that you may perhaps have already concluded due to what I know my husband told you or the practice or whoever when he called, I don't really want to get into it with someone I hardly know.'

  
The doctor paused before speaking, looking at Beca and frowning ever so slightly as she pursed her lips, choosing her words. Ultimately deciding that she should by-pass Beca's comment and try testing the waters with how her patient feels about the subject. 'That you're attracted to women?'

  
Dr Beale believed that Beca would be able to handle her bluntness as she knew that she was all too aware of her feelings for the same sex.

  
Beca narrows her eyes considerably and frowns slightly before relaxing her features, blinking and putting on a smirk, ' I suppose that's one way to put it.'

  
There's a long, somewhat heated pause where Dr Beale stares deeply into Beca's eyes as if trying, and perhaps failing to read her patients thoughts. The doctor finally breaks the moment by continuing, 'Anyway. I didn't plan on getting that far into your therapy today. I normally use first sessions to get know people and their situations. But if you prefer we can start right in to it.'

  
'Ah. I see. You want to form a relationship of sorts... Want to form trust? Right?'

  
'Well obviously to some extent you need to trust me as you will be speaking to me about things that you may never have told anyone before and it's important that you know that though it is my job to listen that I do actually care about what happens to you and how you're feeling.' Dr Beale says sincerely.

  
And while Beca tried her very best to not believe a word she has just said she finds it nearly impossible as it was said with such kindness and such determination to make her believe her, that Beca just has to. If she didn't she would only be lying to herself.

  
'Wow. It's almost as if you already knew I had trust issues,' Beca deadpans, 'But wait... You already did, didn't you? Because you read my records, right? Read about how many times I've been in therapy? How it's never worked.' She continues sarcasm dripping off every word looking down at her hands in her lap and sighing.

  
'I'm not going to lie to you Beca I did look at your files. But that's my job. I need to know these things about you so that my therapy can be more effective than any other that you have received.' Dr Beale says, while trying to capture Beca's eyes again by dipping her head slightly. 'I wanted to understand you before you came in. Get a feel for your situation.'

  
Beca looks up into her eyes and there's that sincerity again, and how comfortable the doctors gaze feels, is making Beca uncomfortable.

'Hm. Okay then,' she says. And Dr. Beale feels that the sentence is uncharacteristically quiet in it's deliverance. The doctor can feel how uncomfortable her patient is feeling so she shifts her gaze ever so slightly so she isn't staring into Beca's eyes anymore and decides to move on.

  
'So why don't you start by telling me a little bit about yourself,' Dr Beale says with a sweet smile...  
******


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Beca's and Chloe's thoughts after the first session and a bit of Beca and Jesse's marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This chapter has a bit of different vibe to it. In sessions with Beca and Chloe, there's a lot tension that isn't as present in this chapter as the two aren't together and therefore I wasn't really able to continue with in this 2nd chapter but that's just my opinion anyway!  
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> RS

******

'I don't know Aubrey. I know she can't actually be treated for having a sexual attraction towards women, and the thought that her husband actually think so make me feel sick, but I feel like there's more under lying issues. Like,' Chloe sighs, 'she could've gone about these feelings in a different way but instead she decides to what she did? Maybe she was purposely trying to hurt her husband for some reason.. I don't know but I want to continue with her therapy.'

  
'Well ultimately it's up to you Chloe. But don't let your personal feelings get in the way and cloud your judgement due to the subject matter of this referral. You need to just listen and accept her situation instead, and not plant ideas in her head that may make her believe that what she did was the right way to go about things. You need to find the root of the issue of why she did what she did and work from there.' Aubrey states softly to her best friend and coworker.

  
Chloe sighs, 'Yeah I understand but I find it difficult to not just tell her that "yeah what you did was wrong but your husband is a dick for thinking you can change your feelings," ya know?'

  
'Yeah I know Chlo, but you need to keep yourself impartial... Anyway,' Aubrey says after a pause, 'I have to go, my 3 o'clock has just arrived.'

  
'Okay that's fine. See you at seven at mine for take out, wine and a movie? Your pick.' Chloe asks rather hopefully. She feels like she needs it. It's a Friday night and where once she would go out and have a few drinks and dance all night, now after a 40+ hour work week she just needs to chill with her best friend. She loves her job but lord is it exhausting and SO time consuming. Even out of office hours she finds it difficult to shut her brain off and stop thinking about ways to help her patients, something Bree always chastises her for.

  
'Yes that's great. I'll see you then Chloe. Love ya! Bye!' And with that Aubrey hangs up.

  
Chloe sits at her desk for a minute unmoving. She glances at the clock. It's been an hour and a half since Beca left and she hasn't stopped thinking about the woman. Even during her last session with a different patient, her mind was on Beca and her situation. God she couldn't believe that there were still people who believed that a person could 'get rid of their gay' by therapy. She couldn't imagine if her parents had told her that when she came out, or her sister or her friends. It was such a backward way of thinking. But then she supposes that perhaps Beca's husband just wanted her to love him and was hurt by what she did. Still it was NOT the right way to go about this. And though Chloe was going to try and keep Beca in therapy as long as she could, she wasn't keeping her there so she could do a type of 'conversion therapy', what ever the hell that was meant to be. No. Chloe was keeping her on so she could figure out what was under the surface of Beca's tough exterior because she believed that there was more to Beca than her moodiness and sarcasm, and perhaps more to the situation that she now found herself in due to her actions.

  
******

  
On her way home, after she had left Dr. Beale's office, Beca sat in her car in silence. Where normally she would jam out to one of her many playlists or whatever was on the radio, instead she finds herself deep in thought about the past hour spent in her new therapists' office. It was a lot different than Beca had expected it to be. Where she planned to go in and pretend the best she could that everything was great, that what she did had been a mistake (which in reality it definitely was not) and leave without ever looking back. She found herself opening up more than she probably should've for a first session and left with a little white card that was filled out by Dr Beale herself in her own swoopy writing with a hand drawn smiley face left of the words at the bottom, stating her next appointment was next week. Same day. Same time.

  
Beca doesn't really know how that happened, after Dr. Beale had asked her about herself she just kind of eased into a coversation about her childhood, where she grew up, the different therapists/ therapy she had done and why she felt it hadn't worked for her and her parents messy divorce (not in much detail, mainly in passing but she assumed they would circle back to that at some point by the way Dr. Beale had reached for her notebook sitting on a table beside her chair and seemingly, and rather unsubtly, noted that fact down). She had talked about how she was a music producer and how much she loved her job but how stressful it had been, ultimately leading her to decide she should take a mini career break for about six months, which had only started a week prior to the 'incident'. She hadn't talked about that quite yet, and though she felt a little more comfortable with the doctor now, she wasn't sure she'd talk about for a while with her. She isn't sure why but she just didn't want to have to explain her actions to anybody. She was well aware of course that Dr. Beale knew EXACTLY what happened. Jesse (her husband) had filled in who ever he had spoken to on the phone in great detail as he had still been so mad the next day when he'd called the office in front of Beca, much to her disdain. The fact that Dr. Beale knew sort of hung over the room for the hour and filled it with a strange sort of tension that Beca took as the therapist waiting for her to speak about it openly, though she never did.

  
She was so lost in thought, Beca hadn't realised that her journey was almost over until she was pulling into the drive of her two story, 4 bedroom (in case her and Jesse had kids, insert eye roll) home, parking in front of their two door garage, she got out of her car and walked up the steps of the front porch. She liked this house, it was pretty and spacious and there was enough room for a home office and her mixing equipment but she had never felt like it was hers. Sure she paid half the mortgage each month, but Jesse had sort of sprung it on her that he bought a house. And much like in a movie, he had blind folded her, drove her to the house and taken it off expecting a reaction. When she had been in silent shock for too long in Jesse's mind, he had said 'you don't like it do you?' and went to sit on the front porch. Of course at the time Beca thought that she should try and be a good newly wed wife and ran to sit beside him and hugged him, saying she loved it, when really she wasn't sure. She was thankful of course that she had a roof over her head and all that but she just felt like it was just a nice house, in a nice neighbourhood, but not her home.

  
She put her keys in the bowl by the door and took her shoes off, noticing her husbands' weren't there meaning he wasn't home yet, 'thank fuck'. Beca went into the kitchen and stared out the window above the sink that looked over her back yard, placing her hands on either side of the sink, for a moment. She needed to stop her mind from thinking about... well... everything, and where she would usually make a mix or write a song, she figured that wouldn't be the best idea as she knew somehow it would be inspired by a certain red headed therapist, even if she tried really hard not to, she was sure it somehow would and she figured that wouldn't help. She could go drink red wine in the bath and cry for a while as that was normally her plan B but she decided that wouldn't be healthy either. So, strangely but not completely out of place she decided to cook herself dinner and open the previously mentioned bottle of red wine.

  
******

  
She had just finished eating her 2nd plate (what? she had and emotionally draining day, she was hungry) of lasagne, when she heard Jesse walk in the front door. She was sitting at the table, wine in hand, when he entered the kitchen. She let her eyes follow him but did not acknowledge him verbally.

  
'Hey babe,' he said, keeping his gaze directed towards the stove and walked past her to look in the dish.

'You can cook?' he laughed lightheartedly, if a little strained, as he got himself a plate from the cupboard up above. He knew she could, he has just trying to be a smart ass, so Beca huffed out a fake laugh through her nose, her features unchanging.

  
See this was the thing about Jesse. He always liked to pretend that nothing bad had happened when something clearly very bad had. He liked to be understanding or simply just by-passed said situation, like he's trying his damnedest to do so now. But it was so blaringly obvious that he was upset still. He hadn't looked his wife in the eye for the past week and a half since he had found her. He hadn't kissed her or initiated any kind of physical contact of which he used to do ALL the time. And Beca loathed this about him. In the beginnying, she had thought it was nice that he never really fought with her, even when she would do something she could tell that he didn't like or agree with very much. Like when she had gone out for a drink with her work friends and hadn't texted him to say when she'd be back and he stayed up all night worried. Or when she had went out with her ex for coffee to catch up. He had never once challenged her and at one point Beca decided to purposely do things to try and get a reaction from him, but he either didn't care or couldn't be bothered starting an argument.

  
And this, this is the main reason why Beca felt they lacked passion. He never challenged her, he just went along with whatever because he thought it made her happy but it was boring her to the point where she wanted to just start screaming at him to see if he'd react at all, or if he'd still just sit there like a limp dick as per. It REALLY got on her nerves. He had every right to still be angry with her. A week and a half doesn't just erase what she did. A fucking life time wouldn't erase it. And sure for about two days she could see he was seething at her. Like he would explode at any moment, and Beca, during this time, had thought, fucking finally! But he hadn't. He just went back into a state of denial. Convinced himself that therapy would plaster over the crack in the wall of their marriage that she had created. But the issue with that, was that this crack wasn't the first. The foundations of the wall were crumbling and Beca hadn't just created a crack with the last thing she had done, she had created a hole. She had seen through to the other side and crouched through said hole and was now on the other side, filling it in with new bricks leaving him by himself. And even though he's watching it happen, he isn't fucking seeing it. Or maybe he is and it's easier to believe that it isn't happening. What ever the reason, Beca is getting tired of his ignorance and to be honest she thinks this is the reason the remorse for what she did, hasn't quite set in yet.

  
So lost in her internal rant, Beca hadn't realised that Jesse had sat down in front of her and started eating. And apparently speaking too.

  
'What?' She said shaking away her thoughts and plastering a smile on her face looking up to meet Jesse's eyes.

  
Just as their eyes met, Jesse looked down at his plate, swallowed and asked again, 'How was therapy today? You went right?'

  
'Oh yeah. It was fine,' faking indifference as much as she could. She had been expecting this line of questioning and had mentally prepared for it.

  
'And the therapist? He's cool?' Jesse asked somewhat apprehensively, pausing ever so slightly between 'He's' and 'cool'.

  
Beca knew this was her husbands way of asking if her new therapist was a man. And at this stage she knew she shouldn't really lie. She'd basically just be rubbing salt in the wound but she liked Dr Beale very much. Obviously she was easy on the eyes but also, Beca felt like she was the first person she'd been able to trust in a while.

  
'Yeah, he's fine I guess,' Beca stated, stressing the 'He's' just slightly. Beca couldn't help but think how backward this sounded. Her husband was actually more comfortable with her telling all her most intimate thoughts to another man rather than a woman because he was worried about what she'd do. Which, she guesses does make sense considering the circumstances. But like seriously? He's doesn't trust her around women because he thinks she's attracted to them but won't believe her when she actually comes out and says that she is in fact attracted to them, right to his face? God he was infuriating. Beca often questioned why she thought she should marry him all those year ago... Obligation seemed the most fitting.

  
'Great!' Jesse replied looking up into Beca's eyes for a split second and looking away again. 'So you're going to keep going?'

  
'Yep, made an appointment for same time, same day next week,' Beca smiled slightly when Jesse looked at her again, as if to reassure her husband that everything will be fine when she knew it wouldn't. He returned the smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

So Beca picked up her plate, put it in the dishwasher, covered the rest of the food with tin foil and put it in the fridge. She walked over to the table to grab the now half bottle of wine and her empty glass without acknowledging Jesse, and took it with her to the bathroom. She guesses plan B is still on the table for tonight, though she didn't feel so much like crying anymore, she'll certainly drink wine in the bath.

****** 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know whatcha think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension builds once again in another session with doctor Beale and Beca opens up a little more than either of them expected!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Here's chapter 3!! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> FYI: Next week's chapter may be a little late :\ I gotta crap tonne of stuff to do this week but I'm off the following week so will defo be up before Easter! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> RS

******

Over the course of the next week, both women thought about each other, probably a little more than was healthy due to the nature of their actual relationship. Chloe was continually trying to switch her brain to something else as she felt it wasn't professional to think about a patient 24/7, yet she couldn't quite figure out why the woman was on her mind so much. And Beca, though there wasn't any real reason why she shouldn't think about the redhead, at least not in a professional capacity, just couldn't understand how Dr Beale had wormed her way into her thoughts so easily. She had chalked it up to being off work and not having anything better to do.

Of course that thought process about the reasoning as to why she was thinking about her therapist so much, kind of went down the drain one night when she woke up, alone in her bed (her husband had been sleeping in the guest room for the past two weeks since the 'incident'- something about the bed feeling dirty, which, fair enough) with a wet, throbbing heat between her legs courtesy of an extremely hot dream involving her pulling up the skirt of and going down on her therapist in her office, atop her desk demanding that she was only to be called Dr Beale the whole time they fucked. When Beca had woken up from this rather vivid dream, she really had no other choice but to get herself off to the thoughts of how her doctor would return the favour (mainly due to the fact that she was so turned on that she reasoned a cold shower would not help in the slightest.) And obviously the dream had to occur in the early hours of the morning before her next appointment with Dr Beale, meaning the memory would be at the fore front of her mind every time Beca looked at her later that day.

*****

Chloe sighed as she wrote down notes for her previous patient. God she was tired. Another monotonous work week had burnt her out once again. And she was more than thankful that Aubrey had decided to go out of town this weekend with her girlfriend, Stacie. This meant that their weekly take out, wine and movie night wouldn't be going ahead tonight and she was glad. Don't get her wrong she loved her best friend, but she just really needed some alone time. Maybe have a bath, listen to some music while she read her favourite literature for the 100th time, crack open a bottle of wine. Yeah, that sounded perfect. Just what she needed to send herself into the blissful state she had been craving all week.

There was a firm but quiet knock at the door then, and without looking up Chloe called for who ever it was to come in.

'Uhm, hello... Dr Beale,' Chloe's head shot up towards the door to find her 1 o'clock standing in the frame of it. _Oh God_ it was Beca, she was so busy with her work and thoughts of bliss, that she had forgotten what time it was. She must look like a frazzled mess.

Chloe stood up, brushing a few stray strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun, away from her face. She took her reading glasses off and smiled brightly.

'Hi Beca. Come on in. Do you want to take a seat?' Chloe gestured to the brown couch that Beca had sat on last week and came out from behind her desk. She was wearing a fitted, black pencil skirt today with a white blouse. _God_ , Beca thought, _she would be wearing a skirt_.  _Dammit that's attractive... Beca... STOP!_

Beca moved quite awkwardly from the door and sat on the couch in the exact position she had last week, shaking her head of all inappropriate thoughts that were threatening to flood her mind. She watched as her therapist sat down in front of her and crossed her legs; right over left. Beca followed this action with her eyes, then brought them up to her doctor's face once again. There was a bit of pause here where Dr Beale watched her intently, not quite the intrusive stare as last week, but enough for Beca to teeter on uncomfortable for a moment. She was never great with eye contact, and by the way Dr Beale seemed to constantly seek it out, Beca concluded a lot of her therapy, and possibly daily life, was based on it. Perhaps it was the doctor's way of gaining trust. And Beca, though finding it slightly uncomfortable at times, knew it was working.

'So Beca, how has the past week been for you?' Chloe asked, her smile still in place as she broke eye contact and reached for the notepad and pen to the right of her.

'Uhm... yeah. It's been fine,' Beca said rather vaguely, and she could see that when Dr Beale looked at her again that she had hoped for a little more, by the ever so slight narrow of her eyes.

'That's good. And how's everything with being off work...?'

'It's been fine,' Beca answered once again on default, then realising that the conversation wasn't going to go very far added,

'I've been able to write a few of my own personal songs again and make my own mixes, which I haven't been able to do for... maybe... years now. That's been nice. I've mainly been taking some time for myself which I feel like I really needed.'

'Well that's positive. I'm glad you can identify when you need some personal time and what to do to help yourself mentally. That's exactly what I'll be doing once I get out of here at five,' Dr Beale said lightheartedly, breathing a short laugh through her nose and smiling softly at Beca.

And Beca, for the life of her, couldn't stop her mind from wandering to what Dr Beale actually did in her personal time. Images from her dream flashed through her mind briefly before an ever so faint blush started to dust her cheeks and she was forced to look away from the doctor's gaze. She couldn't help it. The vividness of the dream was still so fresh in her mind. She shifted her hips slightly in her seat.

Dr Beale had caught this and frowned as it took her a moment before she realised why Beca had been blushing. Of course the doctor had no knowledge of the dream from the previous night, but she did understand that personal time could have a double meaning. A smirk started to threaten the therapist's features, but she reeled it in for the sake of her professionalism. Still, unable to stop herself, she uncrossed her legs, recrossed them, squeezing a little tighter then before, and let out a short audible breath through her mouth, all while keeping her gaze directed at her patient. She could see Beca's eyes lift ever so slightly to watch the movement through her lashes, head still bowed towards her own lap.

With the tension in the room growing rapidly as it had, unknowingly, in their first session, Dr Beale decided to break it with her next sentence, which ultimately was successful,

'And your husband?' The doctor asked, her voice ever so slightly deeper than before.

Beca's eyes shot to her doctor's piercing ones instantly, her walls rising ever so slightly again, her bashfulness evaporating, 'What about him?' she said rather cooly.

'Well, I'm just wondering how everything is going on that front? Considering the situation and what you told me last week, I think it's important that I'm aware of how your relationship with your husband is at the moment.'

Dr Beale took care when speaking these sentences. She could sense that Beca had put her walls back up even if it was ever so slightly. It was odd, unlike with other patients where it would take at least three plus sessions to be able to interpret their feelings through their posture, nervous ticks, speech or facial expressions, Dr Beale could already read Beca like a book. And even though there were still a significant number of pages missing, she was quite proud of her therapeutic abilities, as she was able to break down at least some of the brunette's walls. But she was still quite aware that at this stage, it was necessary for her to be wary of what she said and did. This was crucial in the development of their doctor patient relationship. She needed to make sure she didn't get too carried away and trend as lightly as she could, while still pushing boundaries, without scaring Beca off.

'Uhm...' Beca cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes briefly. She knew this was something that needed to be discussed and wasn't opposed to talking about her husband, though she rather wouldn't, it's just she isn't really sure what her doctor wants to hear about this particular subject or if it would lead into a conversation about 'the incident' of which she still didn't wish to discuss.

After another thoughtful moment, Beca decides that it's probably best to be truthful at this point and tries her best to swallow the pang of guilt she uncharacteristically felt bubble in her throat for even considering lying to the woman in front if her.

'Well, I don't really know what too say. We've only really had two proper conversations since last week and I've barely seen him,' she shrugs her shoulders, 'It's not a big deal really. It's actually kinda nice not having to force a smile at him all the time and sound, I dunno, chipper when we talk.'

Beca rolled her eyes here and then after a brief pause, continued, 'I like being on my own. It's a lot easier.' She shrugged again, trying her best to fake indifference at the last line, but knew her voice betrayed her slightly. She was feeling lonely and not because her marriage was breaking down, it was more that she had always been lonely. She likes to think that she'd come to terms with it by now when really, she hasn't. All she really wanted was for someone to understand her.

Dr Beale had caught the change in Beca's voice, of course she had, it was her job to be perceptive. Though, in their last session, they had spoken about a few of the deeper personal facts of Beca's life, it hadn't escalated into much detail. This slight window of vulnerability was a new opening for the doctor and she fully intended to take advantage of it.

Dr Beale, tapped her pen once, twice, on the notepad in front of her, then set it to the side again. She figured that Beca would feel more comfortable opening up a little more if what she said wasn't going to documented. The doctor then uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in her seat and placed her now folded hands in between her legs, forearms leaning against the inside of her knees and looked back to Beca, who watched her, brow furrowed wondering what her doctor was doing.

'Beca. Do you often feel lonely?' Dr Beale spoke in the softest voice Beca had ever heard from her. And then she realised that her therapist had re-positioned her self this way on purpose, not for comfort, but to try and extend to her a feeling of care. And Beca felt it. They may not have been touching physically but the comfort her therapist was providing at the moment, merely with her position and her gaze, was more than she had ever felt before, from anyone. Even when her mother had tried to comfort her as a child after the divorce or when Jesse would hug her in the almost suffocating way he always did after she had a hard day, long before any of this had ever happened. And the feelings, that she had once thought only physical for the woman sitting in front of her, looking at her in such a soft and careful manner, began to blossom and spread throughout every inch of her body. And with these feelings, came that undeniable flourish of trust that she had felt when she had first looked at the woman.

Due to this, her reply came in the shape of, 'Yes. I do... Almost constantly.' She dropped her own gaze then, fighting the sting developing in the back of her eyes.

Dr Beale hadn't quite realised this would be the reaction she would get from Beca but went with it and continued. 'Do you remember the first time you felt like this? Or what it was that prompted it?' The doctor asked, urging Beca on slightly to find the root of the issue.

'I... ummm...' Beca cleared throat, choking her emotions down as subtly as possible, ' I guess, when I was young...? As a kid maybe.'

'Okay.. do think it developed after you parents divorce..?' Dr Beale said, keeping her soft tones but leaning back once again ever so slowly, her hands still folded together in her lap.

'No. I... I think it was before then. I think I've always sought out alone time, like it was a need for me to live. I don't... um... I don't remember when alone time sort of merged into loneliness. It just _did_.'

'Okay.'

The doctor had to stop for a second to gather her own emotions together. It was odd, often patients would come to her telling her they're feeling lonely amongst other things, but no one had ever quite caused her to feel this slight sinking feeling in her stomach before. It seemed as though Beca had been lonely for quite some time, despite having a husband and two parents, who may not be together but were still alive. Dr Beale wasn't quite sure at this time if Beca had any friends, but she knew she must have co workers from working at the studio. Had she not developed a bond with anyone there?

'Have you ever spoken to anyone about this 'need' to be alone? Your parents, husband, a friend?'

'Well... I've never really discussed it. I tell people I need to be alone when things get too much for me, but I don't explain it. It just is. And they seem to understand. Maybe not Jesse as much but he came to terms with it I suppose, though it still bothers him. My parents, they were concerned I guess after the divorce that I spent too much time alone, so they sent me to therapy instead of asking me what was wrong. And as far as friends go. Well, I'm not sure I have any of those. I mean... there's Amy and Emily from work, but they don't really know about all this. They, um, I guess they think it's just the way I am, which I guess it is. Right? You can't exactly cure chronic loneliness.' Beca looked up to her therapist again and let out a short laugh here. It sounded tired and there was no humour present behind it at all.

Dr Beale smiled at her then, softly portraying an almost admiration for the woman in front of her. She felt proud that Beca was opening up a little.

'Yes you can Beca. You need to just to find something that doesn't make you feel so lonely anymore. Or someone I suppose.'

A pause.

Then Beca blinked. 'I don't feel it when I'm here. When I uhm... When I'm with you. Talking to you.' Beca isn't sure how the words slipped out past her filter, but they did and she was feeling so unbelievably vulnerable right now because of it.

Her doctor had stopped. Her heels no longer tapping lightly to an unfamiliar beat on the carpet, her smile slipping slowly as her eyes widened and eyebrows raised just a fraction. She hadn't expected this admission. It wasn't exactly out of place. Dr Beale supposes in a different situation she would welcome the fact that she had such an effect on someone. But this... _this_ felt far, far more intimate than what their relationship should really consist of. Perhaps it wasn't really the words that were spoken that created this atmosphere, but more the way Beca had spoken it so cautiously yet so genuinely, with her eyes matching her tone. And Dr Beale couldn't help the chorus of butterflies that started to flutter low in her belly.

Just as she had swallowed and was about to continue the conversation, a familiar twinkling sound filled the room, that made them both jump slightly, Beca's head turning, breaking eye contact and looking to where the noise was coming from. It took a second before the therapist realised what it was. Her timer sitting on her desk, signalling that the hour with her patient was up.

She stood then rather abruptly and leaned over the desk to turn it off, her back to Beca. When she turned around to face her patient again, she was already at the door, seemingly wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

'Beca. You don't have to leave exactly when the timer goes off,' Dr Beale stated, even though she that wasn't the reason for Beca's eagerness to leave, 'It's okay. Anyway, we still need to make another appointment.'

'Oh um... I just don't want to keep your other patients waiting and I have somewhere to be,' Beca lied. She knew it was unnecessary. Dr Beale knew she had no where to be. She basically just told her that 10 minutes ago. All it did was cause that pang of guilt to surface again. She pushed it down.

'And as for another appointment. Same day, same time next week is good for me.... If it's good for you..?' She added as an after thought. Dr Beale watched her for a moment, clearly trying to analyse something. What it was Beca wasn't exactly sure.

'Yes. That's perfect.'

Beca twisted towards the door then and put her hand on the knob ready to be turned and opened when a firm 'wait' stopped her in her course.

'Don't forget this,' the voice was closer this time, but it wasn't until Beca turned around once again did she realise how close. Her doctor was right in front of her, close enough for her to smell coconut with a hint of vanilla. She inhaled slightly deeper then was necessary to just be taking a breath.

'Here,' Dr Beale said as she held out the little while card she had written the date and time down on for Beca's next appointment, between her fore and middle fingers. After Beca took the card, the doctor smiled and put her hand on the door knob, her patient quickly removing hers after they brushed slightly, and opened the door for Beca to walk through. It took the brunette a second before she began moving out of the room and into the hallway. She heard her therapist say 'see ya next week' in an overly happy and rehearsed manner behind her, but she kept her pace, not turning, nor replying.

She just really needed to leave...

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment whatcha think :)


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